Gunshots echoed from the bridge before Tag reached it. His heart pounded, and stinging sweat dripped into his eyes.
“Alpha!” Tag yelled.
“Captain! Over here!” Alpha called back from the center of the bridge.
Pulsefire ricocheted against the bulkheads, coming from a corner where several of the Mechanics and Sofia had been herded by golems. A river of black particles drained from an overhead air vent. As the particles hit the deck, they formed into more golems with slicing claws and sword-like appendages. A wall of them stood between Tag and the terminal where Alpha and Coren were working furiously, defended by a few valiant Mechanics.
Even if the Melarrey and marines caught up to Tag, he wasn’t sure they would have enough firepower to swat down all the golems now streaming into the bridge like water from a spigot. There was only one way to stop them now.
“I’m sorry about this, Raktor,” Tag said.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
“Human, what are you planning to do?” the tiny plant-creature squeaked.
“Just brace yourself,” Tag said.
He hefted the seedling in his palm. Raktor seemed to catch on, because it wrapped its vines into a protective ball. Alpha locked eyes with him as he cocked back his arm. Summoning all the power in his muscles, he threw Raktor toward the terminal. The seedling’s vines whipped centimeters above the grasping claws of one of the golems. Alpha leapt with her arms outstretched and snatched the seedling out of the air, then disappeared behind the wall of golems once again.
Pulsefire still rang out from all corners of the bridge as the golems surrounded the separated groups of Tag’s forces. The dusty red-brown planet blotted out the view on the screens now. Tag could already make out the thin veins of silver and gray that were the trains of colonization vehicles and drones working to create the planet’s nascent infrastructure. They would drone indefinitely until someone issued them any order to stop.
If the golems didn’t kill them, the collision with the planet soon would.
A few golems turned his direction and stomped ahead with weaponized arms raised. He saw the marines fighting to reach him, but in his mad dash to the bridge, he’d left them too far behind. Now he stood against a small army. He lashed out with pulsefire, severing an arm from one golem, then a leg from another, encumbering them with energy-ridden injuries as fast as he could.
But his back was soon pressed against a bulkhead. A claw slashed into his leg. Sharp pain followed a second later as he felt blood soak through his pant leg. He dodged another raking claw and then the heavy blow of a hammer that dented the bulkhead. The dent was soon filled in by the self-repairing nanomaterials, but a strike like that against him would not be so easily fixed.
“Alpha, I need an update,” he said over the comms as he dodged another blow.
“We are working on it,” Alpha said in her annoyingly calm voice.
Tag tried to avoid another hammering punch by a golem missing a leg, but the fist connected with his shoulder and sent him reeling. His back slammed against the bulkhead, and a shuddering pain resonated up through his spine and into his skull. Stars glimmered in his vision. He could barely see straight, much less dodge another attack. He fired blindly into one of the dark shadows moving toward him.
And then the golems fell away.
His vision began to settle in time to see the golems break apart like cinders blown by the wind. The others regrouped, their chests heaving and theirs weapons still hot, as a layer of deactivated nanites blanketed the floor.
“Defensive weapons systems are shut down,” Alpha said. “Permanently.”
A few of the Melarrey hooted in victory, and even the Mechanics seemed relieved underneath their stony appearances. But Tag didn’t breathe a sigh of relief.
They were still headed straight for the planet.
“Raktor, can you correct our course?” he asked, running toward the terminal.
The seedling was perched atop it with vines intermingling in a bed of wires that Alpha and Coren had exposed. “Quiet. We are attempting to do so.”
The flashing red lights turned steady white, and the alarms went silent. Without anywhere to sit or secure themselves, the crew found handholds along the viewscreen or grabbed hold of the terminal to brace themselves. The ship shuddered under the immense strain as it curved away from the planet, its massive impellers rumbling. Soon the planet disappeared from the viewscreen, and the ship leveled out.
“Thank you,” Tag said to Raktor.
The seedling chirped happily. “It is our pleasure. We did not want to see the post-human succeed. He likes very much to do the unkind things.”
“We damn well owe you a kind thing or two,” Sofia said.
“We did promise it a ship,” Coren said.
“Can we have this one?” Raktor asked.
“I think I’m going to need this one,” Tag said. “It might prove handy.”
“What about the Argo? We enjoyed our time there.”
“No,” Tag said. “That one is off-limits. So are Jaroon’s and Bracken’s.”
“Then we would like this ship.”
One of the vessels from the ship bays showed as a holo in the center of the bridge. It rotated slowly before them. The data scrolling underneath the three-dimensional image reported the ship to be at least twice as big as a Mechanic dreadnought. At first, Tag was hesitant to gift the seedling—and, indirectly, the larger Raktor back on the Hope—a battleship.
“That’s a great choice,” Sofia said, pointing to the ship’s description with a smirk.
Apparently, the ship, named the Peace of Spring, had been used as nothing more than a cargo transport for a species called the Raundins. The Raundins hailed from a tropical environment, and the ship was equipped to sustain a hot, humid environment. Perfect for a creature like Raktor.
“Fine,” Tag said. Then a thought struck him. In his mind’s eye, he saw the humans that had been imprisoned in the suspension chambers. He had seen only a small fraction of the ship. Maybe the crew of the Peace of Spring were aboard this ship, imprisoned somewhere and awaiting release. If so, Tag didn’t want to give the ship away under the noses of its owners. “Are there any Raundins aboard the Dawn? Or for that matter, anyone else besides the humans we found?”
“No,” Alpha said. “There are not.”
“And how do you know?”
“While the Dawn was running through its automatic data deletion methods, I thought you might want me to save as much as I could for reference. I could not interfere with the ship’s procedures at the time, but I could read the data,” Alpha said. “I started with the laboratory files and logs. The only test subjects aboard this ship are the humans.”
“There aren’t any prisoners?” Coren asked.
“That is correct.”
“There are hundreds of ships in those bays,” Gorenado said.
“Makes you wonder what happened to all the people they belonged to,” Sofia said, her smile fading.
“No kidding.” Tag’s thoughts turned toward another prisoner. One they could still rescue. Lonestar was waiting for them. “Raktor will have the Peace of Spring. And the rest of you need to return to your own vessels.”
Bracken crossed her thin arms over her chest. “I suppose that thing can release our ships.”
The terminal glowed red, then blue.
“All permissions are granted,” Raktor said. “You can access any system on the ship from here.”
Tag settled into Ezekiel’s crash couch. He felt like a child in the driver’s seat of an air car.
“Should I prepare the Argo for launch?” Alpha asked.
“Yes,” Tag said. “But I won’t be joining you.”
Coren and Sofia shot him skeptical looks.
“Someone’s got to command this thing,” he said, patting the arm of the crash couch.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
With Raktor’s help, Tag found piloting the Dawn of Glory to be surprisingly easy. Sofia had trie
d to convince Tag that he should let someone else ride shotgun with him in the ship. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single additional chair anywhere on the hulking vessel. The only other restraints capable of safely securing a human during a hyperspace jump were the suspension chambers in the laboratory. When Tag had mentioned that, Sofia’s insistence that someone stay aboard with him beside Raktor quickly faded.
The jump back to Hope station proved to be uneventful. Just like when Tag took the Argo to hyperspace, waves of purple and green plasma played over the Dawn’s viewscreen as Tag settled into the huge crash couch for the ride. His only company was little Raktor, but the plant-creature wasn’t the best conversationalist. The seedling complained that Tag spoke too slow and it lamented the fact that the human couldn’t establish a direct data link with it like Alpha had. Together they perused the files that Alpha had saved. They found plenty of files on various races and creatures the post-humans had encountered in their campaign to colonize the far reaches of space. There was another subset of files documenting the atmospheric, environmental, and surface composition of planets that Tag presumed this particular colonization ship had visited. According to the logs, Ezekiel had spread the post-human colonies to fourteen planets already.
“We think these post-humans are doing very many unkind things,” Raktor said. “We do not support these actions.”
“That’s good to know,” Tag said, tapping at the terminal. “Have you found anything out about the humans we found in the suspension chambers?”
“Yes, we have. The people were brought here from Earth and deposited within the chambers for experimental purposes.”
“What kind of experiments was Ezekiel running on the humans?” Tag asked.
“We will show you,” Raktor said. It hummed to itself a moment, and then a holo erupted in the center of the bridge.
Tag felt his jaw drop to his chest. He didn’t know what he had expected, but what he saw made his blood turn to ice. “My gods.”
“Did we do a poor job?” Raktor asked. “This is the information you requested, is it not?”
“It’s not you,” Tag said. “We need to call an emergency meeting. Now.”
Moments later holo images of Alpha, Coren, Sofia, Bracken, and Jaroon appeared.
“What’s up, Skipper?” Sofia asked.
Tag shared the holo with all of them. He could hear the collective gasps over the comms as the more scientifically oriented ones got it.
The visible nerve bundles behind Jaroon’s eyes glowed in electric colors. “What is this?”
“These are modified nanites,” Tag said. “They’re based off the original technology that started this whole mess, going all the way back to their development on Earth.”
“Just like the ones that turned my people into Drone-Mechs,” Bracken said.
“Exactly,” Tag said. “But these have a bonus feature.” He gestured over the image, and a series of helix shapes uncoiled. “They deliver a set of DNA vectors. Within those vectors contain the codes that turn people into Collectors, just like the post-human we met.”
“So what do we do?” Jaroon asked. “Does this change our mission?”
“No,” Tag said. “We’ve done what we promised Grand Elector L’ndrant we would do. We found the enemy, and we have a good idea what they’re planning.”
“What will we do next, Captain?” Alpha asked.
“We get Lonestar, then we take this ship back to Meck’ara,” Tag said. “I propose we leave it there. The surviving humans Ezekiel was using as test subjects on the Dawn are still in stasis. I’d like to keep them that way until we figure out what Ezekiel did to them and whether we can safely wake them. Your people can take the rest of this thing apart, search every square centimeter of it, and see if we can’t take any useful tech from it.”
“We would greatly appreciate the opportunity to do that,” Bracken said. “But I take it from this project Ezekiel was working on that the Collectors will be headed to the SRE. It would be prudent to prepare your government for the attack by giving them a glimpse of the enemy. You’re sure you do not want to bring it to Earth?”
“I am,” Tag said. “We still don’t know who duped Lonestar and infiltrated the SRE.” He pictured the Starinski’s New Blood warship leaving the Dawn before they had boarded it. “But I think we have a much better idea of at least one organization complicit in the Collectors’ plans. I have a sneaking suspicion the drones sent from the Hope to Earth and the SRE over the years were attempts to communicate with human collaborators. We haven’t identified who is or isn’t compromised, so I don’t trust anyone but us right now.”
“That is a sound decision,” Jaroon said. “My crew is still ready to carry out whatever we need to do next. From what we witnessed, it seems these Collectors have far more allies than just a few Drone-Mechs and human collaborators. Our mission is not yet over.”
The Melarrey was right. They had a long road ahead of them. “We’ll need to identify all those ships we saw departing the Dawn. Since all we really have left of Ezekiel’s data is his scientific work, I don’t know why those ships were there or where they were headed when they all left.”
Alpha looked dispirited. “I apologize I was unable to save more useful data.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, you sappy tin can,” Sofia said. “You did good.”
“Really good,” Tag said. “You and Raktor saved us.”
He looked at Raktor meaningfully. “You did a very kind thing.”
Even Bracken managed a smile.
“Speaking of kind things, how is Sumo?” Tag asked.
“She responded well to treatment. I have restricted her to bedrest, which she is most unhappy about, but she is healing well.”
“Good,” Tag said. He felt more than a little relief at hearing those words.
“She did ask when you will join her and the marines again for a round of gutfire.”
Tag laughed. “Of course she did. You can tell her I will as soon as we get our lost marine back.”
“And after your revelry and our visit to Meck’ara,” Bracken said coolly, “do you have a plan for where we will be headed next?”
“We? You’re coming with us?” Tag asked.
“I am. So long as my crew doesn’t mutiny at the prospect.”
“Excellent,” Tag said, a genuine smile dawning on his face. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but he felt better—stronger—knowing that he would have such brave and capable allies at his side.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
The four ships transitioned into normal space. On the viewscreen, the other vessels looked like dust motes compared to the monstrosity he was piloting. Before them drifted the familiar hobbled-together Hope station. Every nerve in Tag’s body began to fire as they approached.
“Ready?” Tag asked Raktor.
“We are ready.” Raktor secured the transponder it had used to communicate with Tag and the others to the terminal. “You should have complete remote control of the Dawn now.”
“Thank you. You have done us another kind thing.”
“You will do many kind and good things for others if you carry on with this mission,” Raktor said. “The equation is balanced. It is only mathematics, not kindness.”
Tag smiled. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. There was no way the huge ship would dock with the station, so Tag commanded the ship to drift next to the station. He held out a hand, and Raktor climbed up his arm, its vines wrapping around his shoulder to hold it in place. They made the long journey down to the ship bay and boarded the Raundin vessel. The Peace of Spring’s interior looked and smelled like a jungle that had decided to take to the stars. Raktor seemed at home in the humid atmosphere even as Tag’s suit struggled to keep the resulting condensation of the humid environment from fogging his visor.
“We like this ship,” Raktor said, bouncing on Tag’s shoulder.
“That makes one of us.”
Tag took them to the bridge, which was fi
lled with terminals and seating elements not even close to compatible with human anatomy. He was thankful the trip from the Dawn to the Hope station would be a short one.
Stretching his arm toward one of the terminals, Tag let Raktor take control of the vessel. “This baby’s yours now.”
“Thank you, human Tag,” Raktor said.
The Peace of Spring rumbled into a launch, and it wasn’t long before Raktor was slipping into one of the station’s docking ports, forcing an uneasy connection between the Raundin and human technology.
They departed the Peace with little Raktor once more aboard Tag’s shoulder. Through a grimy porthole on the Hope, Tag saw the Argo, Stalwart, and Crucible dock with the station. Tag had insisted that he take the seedling to the mature Raktor alone. He didn’t want to risk losing anyone else.
Besides, if big Raktor decided to pull some last-minute stunt to put Lonestar and himself in danger, he had the support of three ships waiting outside the Hope.
Seedling Raktor bounced on his shoulder as they passed through the familiar passages filled with the odor of decay. Finally, they reached the forest of dense vines, which parted as they made their way to Raktor’s central chamber.
Its booming voice greeted them as its massive beak lowered from the ceiling. “We see the seedling. What about the ship?”
“You’ll find a Raundian vessel, the Peace of Spring, attached as best we could to a docking port,” Tag said.
The little Raktor bounced. “It will be our new ship! It is a kind thing to have a new ship we can fly!”
Tag swore the massive Raktor beak smiled. “Very good. We are proud our seedling will have this vessel. But why is our seedling not there now?”
“I wanted to show you it’s still very much alive and in good health. I’ll return it to the ship as soon as I make my way back to my own.”
Big Raktor seemed to consider this for a moment. “We do not understand.”
“This human Tag is a doer of kind things,” little Raktor said. “It says the truth, as I learned from our new friend Alpha.”
Shattered Dawn (The Eternal Frontier Book 3) Page 24